Biggles and Company
by mrspencil
Summary: A series of individual poems related to characters and events in the Biggles series. Written a while ago and posted elsewhere. Chapter 12:Focus
1. Biggles

_A/N:these poems were written a couple of years ago and posted on another forum. __The series, written by Captain W. E. Johns, was a childhood favourite. I own none of the characters or tales, and write for fun, not profit._

_First chapter...Captain James Bigglesworth..._

* * *

**Here is a Leader**

* * *

No classic, conventional, storybook hero;

A slight, unassuming and highly strung youth;.

Who moved from the schoolroom to aerial combat

A year under age, "reinventing" the truth.

All boyhood illusions of honour and glory

Soon shattered by battle in bullet-traced skies.

A witness to horrors beyond comprehension;

A world weary pilot with unquiet eyes.

~0~

Not flawless, not faultless, but fallibly human;

At times prone to recklessness, heart ruling head;

Acutely aware of the days every airman

Clung on to this world by the slenderest thread.

And yet…an instinctive, innate moral compass

Held steady despite all the chaos of war;

The trust that through loss and regret and betrayal

Some values would always be worth fighting for.

~0~

A keen sense of justice, a sure set of standards;

The wit to consider his foe's point of view;

Not slow to admit to omissions and errors

Or bending his rule book to see a task through.

No friend is abandoned, no mission rejected,

No offbeat solution is left unexplored;

Impatient to be in the thick of the action,

Where wrongs can be righted, and balance restored.

~0~

He never quite reaches the end of endurance;

Persisting, it seems, by his sheer strength of will.

If the cause or the case or the need is sufficient

He'll somehow hang on beyond reason until

The deed is completed, the evil plot thwarted,

The villains defeated, friends out of harm's way.

A stalwart and loyal and tireless companion

Who sets the whole tone: deadpan humour, fair play.

~0~

So, here is a leader who others will follow,

Undaunted by prospects of danger and death;

Inspired by the depths of regard and devotion

Which quietly endure to the very last breath.

~0~


	2. Algy

_Second chapter...introducing The Honourable Captain Algy Lacey..._

* * *

**The Waiting Game**

* * *

He waits...

As he has waited

For so many days before.

He's the one they all rely on

To fall back, and mind the store.

He accepts the role, as ordered,

Though he'd like to be assigned

To the front line with his fellows;

Not the one they leave behind.

~0~

If he mans the London office,

Matching file to paper clip,

He worries as he ponders on

The hazards of their trip;

Or, if waiting at some godforsaken,

Windswept aerodrome,

He is anxious for the signal

To transport them safely home.

~0~

He thinks about them often,

And he's keen to play his part;

As he checks their route a thousand times

And updates every chart.

He's shown his worth in countless

Daring exploits in the past;

And now he's sitting, waiting,

Till they get in touch at last.

~0~

But...

He knows the point of waiting;

Deep inside, he knows it well.

There are missions which go smoothly;

There are those which go to hell.

And his friend who gives the orders

Knows this too, without a doubt.

He could pick no better person

As the one to get them out.

~0~

If marooned, or trapped or captured

In some far flung, distant land;

They have one enduring constant

In their second in command.

He will act in times of crisis,

Leave no stone nor rock unturned;

And will not rest until

His missing comrades have returned.

~0~

So...

For now, he yawns and stretches;

Warms his feet by coal-lit flame;

And checks the radio once more,

And plays the waiting game.

~0~


	3. Cousins

**Cousins**

* * *

Two cousins;

Though no one recorded precisely

Which relative linked

One in blood to the other.

Two cousins

Transformed

Into comrades in arms;

Each constant,

And steadfast,

And close as a brother.

~0~

Two cousins

Who did not inspire

Such devotion

On awkward first meeting,

At parent's behest.

Two cousins

Who cheerfully

Showed their true colours

When all they were made of

Was put to the test.

~0~

Two cousins

Who found

Their true place in the world;

Side by side

As the best

Of companions and friends.

Two cousins;

A firm

And unshakable bond,

From the first written word,

Till the last

Chapter ends.

~0~


	4. Ginger

_Author's note: contains details of Ginger Hebblethwaite's first appearance in "The Black Peril"_

* * *

**Dust**

* * *

Small particles of dust ingrained

In clothing, skin and hair;

An accidental souvenir;

A thin, persistent layer.

Some blows away on country lanes,

Or clings to leaf and stone;

As one determined traveller

Treks on; head high; alone.

Some settles onto farmer's fields

Where light footsteps have been;

A young resourceful scavenger

Who gathers food, unseen.

And more inside a railway hut,

A shelter for the night;

And smudges on the tracks close by

Where nimble feet take flight.

A further tiny trace upon

A taxi's leather seat,

And also near a runway

Where two lifelong friends first meet.

Some swirls around a cockpit:

Rescue mission; urgent haste.

A lot of what remains is left

In ragged clothes; now waste.

A microscopic fleck is mixed

With toolshed straw and soot;

Disturbed in struggles...life or death;

And trampled underfoot.

The trees and bushes takes a share,

Brushed off at frantic pace,

As loyal comrades claim their own,

And enemies give chase...

~0~

An autumn day, an aerodrome

In sunshine, bright and clear.

The last few specks of coal dust

Catch the breeze, and disappear.

~0~


	5. Bertie

**Unique**

* * *

A member of the upper class,

Who joins the airborne forces.

A veteran of the racing track,

At home with hounds and horses.

A monocle worn constantly;

A man quite unashamedly

From blue-blood aristocracy,

Who joins the airborne forces.

~0~

A hunting, shooting, fishing type;

Of neat, effete appearance.

But underneath the surface gloss,

A steel-cored perseverance.

A fancy vessel can contain

A sharp and enterprising brain;

Alongside oysters and champagne

And neat, effete appearance.

~0~

The season spent in sport amongst

The Monte Carlo players;

Regarded as the "idle rich"

And honest toil betrayers.

They see the "fop", the "silly ass"

And miss the gentleman, alas,

Whose exploits will, by far, surpass

Those Monte Carlo players.

~0~

Those folk who judge him have no clue

How much they are mistaken;

He's never let a colleague down;

No friend has he forsaken.

And those who criticise and scoff

This softly spoken, high-born toff

Discover, when the gloves come off,

How much they are mistaken.

~0~

A staunch companion, through and through;

Unique, first-rate, courageous.

A skilled, inventive pilot who,

At times, is quite outrageous.

His friends, it cannot be denied,

Regard his quirks with baffled pride;

Relieved that he is on their side.

Unique, first-rate, courageous.

~0~


	6. Less is More

_A/N: this was written a couple of years ago as part of a discussion on the restrained displays of emotion in the books._

* * *

**Less is More**

* * *

The briefest of glances; a touch on the shoulder;

The glint in a monocled eye.

A moment of stillness, a jest sparked in peril;

A swift and sarcastic reply.

The clasp of two hands, squeezing tight for a moment,

When one who was missing is found;

The tension, on facing a difficult landing,

Dismissed when the wheels hit the ground.

The painstaking care of the wounds of another,

Whilst blithely ignoring one's own;

The unspoken trust that the darkest of demons

Aren't meant to be conquered alone.

The instinct to stand side by side when it matters,

Regardless of what it may cost,

And to follow on through to the end of endurance.

Though logic suggests all is lost.

~0~

No overblown praise, few displays of emotion;

Just comradeship, steady and sure.

When describing the strength of the bonds forged between them,

It seems fair to conclude...

Less is more.

~0~


	7. Altered Perspectives

**Altered Perspective**

* * *

A lifelong allegiance to homeland and culture;

A fierce dedication to all he holds true;

A ruthless response in defence of his country;

A focused commitment to see it all through.

~0~

Complete condemnation of all that might threaten

The cause at his centre; his motives and worth.

The thorn in his side who has foiled his endeavours,

From conflict in France to the ends of the Earth.

~0~

The skilled exploitation of any foe's weakness;

Low tactics employed as the means to an end;

Advantages gained over "softer" opponents,

Who would risk all they had for the sake of a friend.

~0~

A rising contempt for those men he must work with;

Who glory in violence and cruelty and greed.

The rate of erosion of values he cherished,

Enhanced by each new and dishonourable deed.

~0~

A growing regard for his "opposite number";

The steady devotion he somehow acquired.

A covert respect for his methods and morals;

The teamwork and trust _he_ has never inspired.

~0~

A painful nostalgia; no home to return to;

His focus reduced to those few he holds dear.

The hopes of restoring an empire now shattered;

The prospect of death or disgrace drawing near...

~0~

The bleak contemplation of years of hard labour;

Then rescue by one he'd long battled instead.

Revised expectations on finding safe haven;

His enduring philosophy turned on its head.

~0~


	8. Widening Horizons

_a/n: a further poem about Ginger's origins._

* * *

**Widening Horizos**

* * *

A rough, often difficult childhood;

The rod seldom spared.

A lad holding dreams for the future,

Though no one else cared.

A mother he could not remember;

A father bereft,

Bowed down by long years at the coal face;

No trace of hope left.

A bleak and predictable pathway

From schoolroom to mine;

Where any bright spark of ambition

Would struggle to shine.

A strong, irrepressible spirit;

Displacing despair.

A fiery and bold disposition

To match his red hair.

A choice, a life-changing decision;

No longer denied.

A final, intense confrontation;

A father defied.

~0~

The sky stretching endless above him;

The world opened wide.

~0~


	9. Split Second

**Split Second**

* * *

The moment when everything stops;

A split second.

The instant when nothing else

Matters at all.

An aircraft on fire

And the dreadful conclusion;

Fierce flames will consume him

Or death in the fall.

~0~

The world narrows down

To one scene

In slow motion;

A pilot poised calmly

To jump from a plane.

A spine-chilling,

Heart-stopping,

Blood-freezing moment

All prayers...

Hopes...

Entreaties...

Are uttered in vain.

~0~

The world narrows down

To one scene;

One small figure;

A friend tumbling earthwards.

Malevolent fate.

A witness to tragedy

Grimly unfolding.

All pleas,

And regrets

Are too little,

Too late.

~0~

The moment when everything starts;

A split second,

As silk blossoms out

Round the airman below.

No words can describe

The full depth of emotion;

As breath which was held

For all time

Is let go.

~0~


	10. Waiting

**Waiting**

* * *

A pause...

No movement; nothing heard;

No tension eased;

Not yet.

More restless pacing round the room.

Another cigarette.

No swooping shadows patch the skies;

No sign; no longed-for sound.

No engines roar, no wings sweep air,

No wheels touch solid ground.

And muscles imperceptibly

Draw tight;

Strain eyes;

Clench jaw.

And thoughts and fears remain unvoiced,

Of comrades lost before.

And minutes tick unendingly

From future into past;

Till silence breaks;

And hope returns;

And all are home

At last.

-~0~


	11. Worth

**Worth**

* * *

He turned, saw the landed Defiant,

And a gathering crowd.

He sensed the unbearable silence,

As they stood with heads bowed.

He ran to where airmen were lifting

A boy from the plane;

He could see at a glance any medic

Would be summoned in vain.

No point in regret at assigning

The gunner his place;

Instead he was focused upon

Whispered words; ashen face.

There were those with the devil's own luck

When they took to the skies;

And those where the Fates were less kind,

Like this lad with grey eyes.

There he stayed for those few fleeting minutes;

His last ones on earth.

Well aware just how much

Every brief, precious second

Was worth.

~0~

* * *

_A/N: Inspired by a scene in "Biggles Sweeps the Desert"_


	12. Focus

**Focus**

* * *

They joined up together for King, Crown and Country;

A battle for Britain, a role they could play.

Each one quite prepared for the risks of fierce combat;

Their lives on the line for a cause, every day.

But...

King, Crown and Country aren't truly what matters,

When caught up in conflict in bullet-ripped skies

The world narrows down to three planes and three pilots;

And whether, today, a close friend lives or dies.

~0~


End file.
